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55 
 
 Break forth into singing; the morning has dawned ^ \\ i^-ivv .-v^.. . m^J 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 Anson D. F. Randolph & Com 
 
 900 Broadway, Cor. 20th Street 
 
 COPTRIGHT. 1886. BT ANSON D. ». RANDO 
 
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I. 
 
 AEE the land, her Easter keeping, 
 ^^ Rises as her Master rose : 
 Seeds so long in darkness sleeping 
 
 Burst at last from winter's snows. 
 Earth with heaven above rejoices ; 
 
 Fields and gardens hail the spring ; — 
 Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices, 
 
 While the wild birds build and sing. 
 
II. 
 
 ^fVjE breathe a golden atmosphere 
 
 Of solemn joy, and seem to hear 
 Within, above, and all around. 
 The chime of deep cathedral bells. 
 An Qarly herald peal, that tells 
 A glorious Easter-tide begun ; 
 While yet are sparkling in the sun 
 Large rain-drops of the night-storm passed, 
 And days of Lent are gone at last. 
 
III. 
 
 ** T^HE Lord has risen ! '* Our life appears 
 Divine in that diviner light, 
 Which shines immortal through our tears, 
 What time we sit in sorrow's night. 
 *' The Lord has risen — has risen indeed ! '' 
 Throughout the earth the tidings run. 
 In higher thought and holier deed, 
 Life blossoms to her living Sun. 
 
IV. 
 
 f^lYREEZES of spring, all earth to life awaking, 
 ^^ Birds swiftly soaring through the sunny sky, 
 The butterfly its lonely prison breaking, 
 
 The seed up-springing which had seemed to die, — 
 Types such as these a word of hope have spoken, 
 
 Have shed a gleam of light around the tomb ; 
 But weary hearts longed for a surer token, 
 
 A clearer ray to dissipate its gloom. 
 
V. 
 
 pfrND this was granted ! See the Lord ascending, 
 ^ On crimson clouds of evening calmly borne, 
 With hands outstretched, and looks of love still 
 bending 
 
 On His bereaved ones, who no longer mourn. 
 ** I am the resurrection,'* hear Him saying! 
 
 ** I am the life ; he who believes in Me 
 Shall never die: the souls My call obeying, 
 
 Soon where I am, forevermore shall be/' 
 
VL 
 
 ^YjE have no need to stand and weep with Mary, 
 For He who rose that day shall weep no more ; 
 Yet sometimes now, our eyes grow dim with sorrow, 
 
 We can not see the Lord whom we adore, 
 And gloomy doubts rise up like clouds before us ; 
 
 " Is what we counted gain an utter loss? 
 Is it a dream, a myth, the blessed story 
 
 Of Christ our Saviour and His precious cross ? *' 
 
VII. 
 
 *' /JYIVE us a sign!'* cries out the world that 
 hates Him ; 
 
 The Master as of old makes no reply ; 
 But, to the heart of every true disciple, 
 
 Be sure the blessed Sav^iour will draw nigh, 
 And call each one by name, as He did Mary ; 
 
 And, though the stone seemed rolled before the 
 door, 
 The risen Lord Himself shall stand before you, 
 
 For Jesus is the same forevermore. 
 
VIII. 
 T^HE night IS past, its sleep and its forgetting; 
 
 Our risen Sun, no more forever setting, 
 Pours everlasting day. 
 
 Let us not bring upon this joyful morning 
 Dead myrrh and spices for our Lord^s adorning. 
 
 Nor any lifeless thing ; 
 Our gifts shall be the fragrance and the splendor 
 Of living flowers, in breathing beauty tender, 
 
 The glory of our spring. 
 
LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 165 669 •